


Whole

by Lady_of_the_Rings



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: :'), Angst, Aromantic Asexual Natasha Romanov, Aromantic Natasha Romanov, Asexual Character, Asexual Natasha Romanov, Endgame can go fuck itself imao, Gen, Happy Ending, How Do I Tag, I love her, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Natasha lives!, Other, This is Natasha figuring things out, also minor trans peter parker, because that is the hill I will die on, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_the_Rings/pseuds/Lady_of_the_Rings
Summary: Natasha Romanov think that she's broken. She isn't.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 96





	Whole

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea simmering in the back of my mind for a while now. A combination of sadness over the delay of the Black Widow movie and anger at the lack of ace/aro representation in media has culminated into the creation of this fic, which has been released into the internet, for better or worse.

Natasha Romanov was broken.

It must have been the Red Room that had done this to her. There, she had been trained to block off her feelings. To keep them hidden. Emotions were easily manipulated. Anyone in their line of work knew that. It was better to stop them from happening in the first place than to ignore them once they were already there.

She remembers when she was young. She was a good girl, obedient, deadly...everything a good spy should be. Her success was built on not getting punished. A day without pain induced by her handlers was a good one.

One day, her handlers brought her a prisoner. A girl, only a year or two older than Natasha herself. At first glance, she knew that the other was one of her brethren. Another girl warped by the Red Room.

She was ordered to kill her.

She did, without question.

Later, she heard from one of the others why the girl was executed. “She deserted,” they said. “She fell in love with her target and tried to run away with him. But they found her soon enough.”

That night, as she lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, she wondered. What a powerful force this love must be to make someone like her go against everything she's ever known.

Natasha knew how to manipulate people. She knew how to make them want her, she knew how to wrap them around her finger until she had full control over their minds and actions. Was that love, what they had shown her? Was that love that she was taking advantage of?

As the years went on, she learned more about love. It was still mysterious, though. Elusive. She could never quite pinpoint what it meant.

She barely felt anything when she slept with her targets. Only the same dullness as there was in every part of her life.

That was not love, she decided. She did not want them how they wanted her. She could put a bullet in their heads without a second thought.

Then she met Clint. And Clint was...different. For the first time in her life, someone looked at her and thought she was worth saving. He took her back, back to his own house. He didn't even seem to bat an eye at letting a trained super spy into his home.

He made her food, and let her use his shower. He seemed to have no ill intentions with her, but still, she was on high alert. No one did something for nothing.

But nothing happened. He gave her some clean clothes, and said she could sleep in the guest bedroom.

She was nervous. She didn't want to sleep, not when someone else could get the upper hand.

Clint understood, though. He showed her that the room had a window, with a fire escape down onto the street. He gave her a key, to lock the door from the inside.

And then he left. He told her that she could leave, if she wanted too.

But she didn't.

He got her a job at S.H.I.E.L.D. Fury was skeptical, at first. It was not often that his assassin brought home a target and asked him to get her a job. But he consented, as long as Clint watched her carefully and reported back if anything went wrong.

And it was great. For the first time in Natasha's life, she felt like she could breathe. It still wasn't the safest of jobs. She spent a majority of her time looking over her shoulder. But now she had Clint. Someone who cared about her. And soon she realized she cared about him back.

Was that love? Was that the stuff of romance movies and fantasies? The thing everyone talked about but she had never known?

It wasn't.

She loved Clint. But...it wasn't like that. It wasn't romance, or sex, or anything like that. She saw him as a brother, and he saw her as a sister.

Natasha was a little disappointed. She thought that she had finally found it, that she had finally understood what everyone had been talking about. But she still had time, right?

Then there was Maria. Beautiful Maria, who was so hard and formal on the outside, but it all melted away once she was off of the spotlight. When she let herself go, there was no one quite like her.

Natasha thought she fell in love, a little bit. She admired Maria's dark hair, her strength, and her ability to care. And she knew Maria admired her too. She caught Maria giving her soft smiles, and she would always return them. They grew closer. She thought that maybe this was love.

But that wasn't it, either.

Natasha was starting to feel bad, now. She always suspected she was a little off. A little strange.

Maybe they were all too similar. Clint and Maria were both fighters. They had been trained to fight, and that's all they had ever known. Maybe Natasha needed someone different. Someone who wasn't like her at all, but would fit her like a puzzle piece.

New York happened. They fought off aliens from outer space, which Natasha never thought she would say. But it had happened, and it was over now.

She spent more and more time with Bruce over the next few months.

He was the different she had though she was looking for. He had spent his entire life running from violence and fighting, but still he didn't shy away from defending his friends and his home.

Bruce was shy, and quiet, and sweet. She thought she fell for him a little.

She tried. She tried to be in a relationship with him.

They did everything the other couples did. They went on dates, they kissed, they held hands. It was an easy routine to fall into.

It was...nice, but it felt wrong. She felt as if she was putting up another front, another disguise that looked good from the outside but stabbed her with jagged edges on the inside.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't keep up this illusion, not one that took up the small part of her life that was at least a little bit separate from her work.

She broke up with Bruce. She was worried, worried that he would be angry, and worried that she would burn another friendship behind her because of who she was.

But he understood, or at least pretended to. He told her that if it didn't feel right, she was under no obligation to continue. They could stay friends.

And Natasha was glad. And yet, it hurt. The next few days, she buried herself in her missions, taking out her targets with ease. She needed to get away, to think.

But all she could come up with was this: Natasha Romanov was broken. Natasha Romanov could not love.

At night, she snuck into Clint's room at the tower. He sat up, gun in hand and pointed at the door, before he saw it was her.

“'Tasha?” He asked. He noticed the tears running down her face. “Tasha, what's wrong?”  
And she couldn't help herself. She started to sob.

Clint got up and pulled her into a tight hug. “Shhh. Shhh. It's okay.”

He held her while she cried, never pushing her. Finally, when she could talk without sobbing and open her eyes without water flowing out of them, she told him everything. About how she couldn't love. About how she tried, and tried, but she was just too broken to.

Clint gave her another fierce hug. “You aren't broken,” he whispered. “You're just fine.”

And that was when he told her about being aromantic and asexual.

She had heard the terms before, in passing. But she never really learned what it meant.

“So are you saying I'm incapable of loving?” she asked, still sniffling.

“No,” he said, smiling tenderly. “Maybe you just can't feel romantic love. But you can still care about people other ways.”

Natasha spent the next morning doing research. She read countless articles and essays about aromanticism and asexuality. And she had to admit, everything seemed to click into place.

It fit. It fit so well. And she felt lighter. Lighter than she had in forever. She was fine. She wasn't broken. She was no different that the thousands of other people out there who couldn't love romantically but still had all kinds of love for their friends and family.

She came out to the rest of the Avengers later that day. She was worried. She knew that they probably all wouldn't accept her.

But they were fine with it. Supportive, even. Clint bought her an ace/aro flag (she hung it up on the wall in her room) and Tony made her a necklace out of scrap metal that had the flag colors on it. The best of all was Peter. When she came out, he stared at her for a moment, and she thought that maybe she had done something wrong. Until he rushed forward and gave her the biggest hug, nearly crushing the breath out of her with his super-strength. “I love you, Auntie Nat,” he said. And she had nearly cried.

The next year, they all went to the pride parade. It was quite a sight to see all of the Avengers, lined up with various flags trailing behind them. Steve and Tony both had bi flags, Clint had a pan one, and Peter stood on the top of a building, waving his trans flag around wildly.

And Natasha, she stood in the front, with her own flag draped over her back. Some people gave her dirty looks, those people who stood on the sidelines and booed at the crowd.

But she didn't pay attention to them, only looking at them long enough to stick her tongue out. Because Natasha Romanov wasn't broken. Maybe she didn't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, but she had her new family, and that was all she needed to be whole.

**Author's Note:**

> I know stories without romance don't get as much attention, but I really like this and i hope you do too.   
> Leave a comment please, they make my day :)


End file.
